The Wandering Jew — Volume 01 eBook

Dagobert, entering one of these stables, took from
off a chest the portion of oats destined for his horse,
and, pouring it into a winnowing basket, shook it
as he approached Jovial.

To his great astonishment, his old travelling companion
did not respond with a joyous neigh to the rustle
of the oats rattling on the wicker work. Alarmed,
he called Jovial with a friendly voice; but the animal,
instead of turning towards his master a look of intelligence,
and impatiently striking the ground with his fore-feet,
remained perfectly motionless.

More and more surprised, the soldier went up to him.
By the dubious light of a stable-lantern, he saw the
poor animal in an attitude which implied terror—­his
legs half bent, his head stretched forward, his ears
down, his nostrils quivering; he had drawn tight his
halter, as if he wished to break it, in order to get
away from the partition that supported his rack and
manger; abundant cold-sweat had speckled his hide with
bluish stains, and his coat altogether looked dull
and bristling, instead of standing out sleek and glossy
from the dark background of the stable; lastly, from
time to time, his body shook with convulsive starts.

“Why, old Jovial!” said the soldier, as
he put down the basket, in order to soothe his horse
with more freedom, “you are like thy master—­afraid!—­Yes,”
he added with bitterness, as he thought of the offence
he had himself endured, “you are afraid—­though
no coward in general.”

Notwithstanding the caresses and the voice of his
master, the horse continued to give signs of terror;
he pulled somewhat less violently at his halter, and
approaching his nostrils to the hand of Dagobert, sniffed
audibly, as if he doubted it were he.

The soldier looked around him with uneasiness.
It was a large stable, faintly lighted by the lantern
suspended from the roof, which was covered with innumerable
cobwebs; at the further end, separated from Jovial
by some stalls with bars between, were the three strong,
black, horses of the brute-tamer—­as tranquil
as Jovial was frightened.

Dagobert, struck with this singular contrast, of which
he was soon to have the explanation, again caressed
his horse; and the animal, gradually reassured by
his master’s presence, licked his hands, rubbed
his head against him, uttered a low neigh, and gave
him his usual tokens of affection.

“Come, come, this is how I like to see my old
Jovial!” said Dagobert, as he took up the winnowing-basket,
and poured its contents into the manger. “Now
eat with a good appetite, for we have a long day’s
march tomorrow; and, above all, no more of these foolish
fears about nothing! If thy comrade, Spoil-sport,
was here, he would keep you in heart; but he is along
with the children, and takes care of them in my absence.
Come, eat! Instead of staring at me in that way.”